


Skills

by AliceInKinkland



Category: Firefly
Genre: Jayne is an asshole as usual, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Rough Oral Sex, in which I headcanon everyone as bisexual, like they're both into it but super bad at communication, slight dub con, this isn't what good consent looks like kiddos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3383990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceInKinkland/pseuds/AliceInKinkland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“C’mon, doc. Don’t tell me you ain’t thought about it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skills

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?”

Simon crosses his arms in front of him as Jayne pauses, hand on a drawer handle. He can’t imagine why in the ‘verse Jayne is in his infirmary on this otherwise-quiet afternoon.

Jayne shugs. “Need some lube,” he says. “Ran out. Figured you’d have some.”

Simon lets his jaw drop in what is only partially exaggerated shock. “You need _what_?”

“Lube. You know, like--” Jayne makes a motion with one of his fists and Simon puts his head in his hands. 

“Jayne,” Simon says, in the voice he normally reserves for small children, “This is an infirmary. Those drawers contain medical supplies. Our entire stock of medical supplies, I might add.”

“Yeah, and doctors gotta use lube sometimes, right?”

“Yes! Which is why it’s important that we stock it, in the infirmary. In case the doctor--that would be me, Jayne--needs to use some.”

Jayne opens the first drawer. “Aw, we’re docking in Persephone soon, ain’t we? You can pick some more up there.” He slams the drawer closed, and opens the next one. Bottles clink against each other, making Simon jump.

“Yes, and I’ll just tell the Captain you absolutely needed some of my _medical supplies_ for your...self-love sessions! I’m sure he’ll understand completely.”

Jayne snorts. “Ain’t my fault you’re too prissy to talk about jerkin’ off like a normal person.”

“My god, if you’re what passes for normal out here…”

Jayne pauses his drawer inspection to look at Simon. He tilts his head. “Bet that’s all you ever done, ain’t that right, doc?”

Simon narrows his eyes, confused. “All I’ve ever--what?”

“Bet you ain’t never fucked nobody. It’s always just been you and those soft little pasty hands of yours.”

“Jayne! Out! Get out of my infirmary!”

Jayne laughs. He does not, however, move to exit the room. Instead, he opens the next drawer and rifles through neat little stacks of sterile bandages. Simon hears the packaging tear. _Erstwhile sterile bandages_ , thinks Simon. He sighs a bit too audibly.

“Not that this is any of your business whatsoever, but I had a boyfriend. For a while. Back on Osiris. Back when I was in school.” “Boyfriend” is much too strong a word for whatever he was to Wei, but Jayne doesn’t need to know that.

Jayne stops manhandling the bandages, to Simon’s relief. He turns to stare intently at Simon, which Simon finds somewhat less relieving. Simon crosses his arms once again.

“Huh,” says Jayne. “A boyfriend. So Kaylee really is shit outta luck?”

“I--well, no, I mean, I like girls too, absolutely, I just--” 

“Huh,” Jayne says again. Then, leering, “But that’s it, though? Just the one? Still been mostly…?” He makes the jerk-off motion once again.

“I’ll have you know he said I was...very good. Skilled, I mean.” Immediately after Simon speaks, he wishes he hadn’t. Why is he telling Jayne this? What is it about this man that makes him want to--Simon decides not to finish that thought.

Jayne laughs. “So what you’re sayin’ is, I don’t need lube, ‘cuz I got me someone right here skilled in the sexual art of...sex.” Jayne takes a step towards Simon, and smiles when Simon almost flinches.

“That is the complete opposite of what I’m saying, actually. I’m saying that you should remove yourself from my infirmary. In case you’ve forgotten.”

“C’mon, doc. Don’t tell me you ain’t thought about it.”

Simon has thought about it, but that is one of a whole variety of things he will never, ever share with Jayne. Besides, thinks Simon, Jayne cannot possibly be serious right now. He must be trying to rile Simon up, and Simon is determined not to fall for it.

“W-what do you think you’re doing _now_?” Simon demands, as Jayne takes another step towards him. Simon holds his ground, even though Jayne is now close enough for Simon to clearly smell his musk of sweat and gun oil. Simon swallows, mouth dry. His cock is stiffening in his trousers, loathe as he would be to admit it to Jayne. 

“Y’know, your mouth sure ain’t skilled at talking, fancified words or no. Makes sense it’d be good at somethin’ else.”

And just like that, Simon feels his anger overtake his lust once again, leaving him well and truly speechless. If he weren’t so sure Jayne could knock him unconscious in under five seconds, Simon would be tempted to punch him.

Jayne is staring him down, a slight smirk on his lips. Finally, after a long moment, Simon chokes out, “OK, so was that the punch line?”

Jayne looks confused. “The what?”

“I’m waiting for the moment when you explain how the joke’s on me, when I find out why you’ve really come barging into my infirmary, gone through my drawers…”

“No, all I’m sayin’ is, if I’d known you was a little bit sly I’d’a come to you sooner. A man has needs, y'know?”

Simon raises his eyebrows. Is this--could Jayne really--? His collar feels much too tight all of a sudden. “Well, I’m truly honoured you consider me...worthy of your affections, but need I remind you that we hate each other?"

“Bet you just ain’t as good with your mouth as you say you are.” Jayne raises his eyebrows in what Simon assumes is meant to be a mocking expression and leans towards Simon until he is well and truly in Simon’s face. Simon feels like he is breathing nothing but Jayne’s scent. He feels his cock twitch again. The room seems impossibly hot.

Suddenly, Jayne reaches out and gropes between Simon’s legs. Simon lets out a noise that is much too high for his liking and stumbles backwards, but Jayne follows, still gripping Simon’s now completely hard cock, until he is nearly pressing Simon into the infirmary wall.

“Knew it,” says Jayne.

“This is--unacceptable,” says Simon, with considerably less conviction than he was hoping. 

“I think what’s unacceptable is you bein' on this ship for months now and holdin’ out on me.” Jayne tugs roughly at Simon’s cock. Simon bites his lip.

He closes his eyes. He left River with Inara and Kaylee only half an hour ago, and Inara promised to keep her occupied for a few hours at least. River is safe. With Inara and Kaylee. River is safe.

Simon opens his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I’m only doing this because I’m long overdue to make a truly irresponsible decision.”

Jayne blinks.

“That’s a yes, Jayne.”

Simon expects Jayne to respond--in Simon’s fantasies, this is the moment where Jayne says something unbelievably crude and silences Simon’s objections with a rough kiss--but Jayne simply growls and pushes Simon onto his knees. Simon’s hands rush to Jayne’s belt, but Jayne gets there first, undoing his pants with quick movements. When Jayne pulls out his cock, Simon feels himself blushing. Why is he so gorram...flustered?

Jayne laughs, but still says nothing. The silence makes Simon keenly aware of how helpless he is, on his knees, back to a wall, an unpredictable mercenary between him and the only exit. What he can’t quite figure out is why this observation makes him even harder.

Jayne slaps Simon’s face with his cock, lightly, casually. Before Simon can react, he slaps him again, harder. Simon feels drops of pre-cum running down his cheek. He feels frozen. He should object to this. He should not be putting up with this kind of treatment from anyone, and definitely not from Jayne Cobb. 

Jayne lifts Simon’s chin up, his grip much tighter than necessary, forcing their eyes together. “You gonna suck it, or what?” His face is impassive, his voice even more dangerous than usual. 

Simon’s cock is throbbing now. He wants desperately to take it into his hand, but he stops himself. His earlier boasting is ringing in his ears. He told Jayne he was good at this, and he needs to concentrate if he’s going to prove it.

Simon licks tentatively at the tip of Jayne’s cock. Moistening his lips, he takes Jayne’s length into his mouth, stopping when he feels pressure on the back of his throat. He tries to remember what to do with his tongue. Should he swirl it somehow? And what about his lips? This is harder than he remembers, or maybe Jayne is just bigger than Simon is used to. He struggles to get a rhythm going, trying to decide where to put his hands.

Apart from an occasional grunt, Jayne stays silent as Simon works him, standing largely unmoving in front of the kneeling doctor, one hand braced against the wall, the other resting lazily in Simon’s hair. Simon hopes his lips are tight enough, hopes Jayne likes the thing he’s started doing with his tongue every time it’s near the head, hopes Jayne doesn’t mind that he just can’t fit all of him into his mouth no matter how hard he tries. He strains his eyes upwards, trying to make out Jayne’s expression. 

Then, with a growl, Jayne tightens his grip on Simon’s hair, and before Simon can protest Jayne has thrust his cock so deep into Simon’s throat that Simon can feel Jayne’s pubic hairs grazing his lips. He tries to breathe, then tries to scream when he can’t, but the noise is muffled, his throat filled. 

It feels like they stay that way for an eternity--Jayne holding Simon firmly in place, Simon shuddering and gagging--but Simon knows it can’t be that long, because he’s still breathing when Jayne releases him, if a little faint. Simon gasps and splutters, saliva running down his chin. Jayne laughs.

“I shoulda known that ain’t one of your skills.”

Simon grits his teeth. He will not let Jayne think he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. That was not the plan. “What? No, I can take it.” 

“Yeah?” 

Simon nods, hoping his expression is more cocky than fearful. 

“Good,” Jayne growls, fist once again in Simon’s hair, “‘Cuz I been wanting to fuck your pretty little face since the first moment I saw it.”

What follows is unlike any blow job Simon has ever given, although he must admit his previous experience has been limited. He feels less like he is performing a series of actions and more like he is giving himself, his whole body, to the man in front of him. Jayne’s pace is frantic, his thrusts deep, and Simon can do nothing but _yield_ , open himself as fully as he can, and try to remember to breathe whenever he is able.

When Simon is alone--a rarity these days--and he touches himself, this is the kind of thing he barely lets himself imagine--being used like this, on his knees, eyes watering, crisp collared shirt stained with spit and pre-cum. He’s never been sure why he wants this so much, and even less sure whether he would like the reality as much as the fantasy. And now here it is, really happening, and the truth is it _is_ utterly overwhelming, it _is_ messy and almost painful and completely out of his control.

And he loves it.

Simon moans and tightens his lips around Jayne’s cock as Jayne pounds his throat. Every thrust feels like almost too much, almost more than Simon can take, but he does take it, every time. He feels flushed and tingly, aware of every inch of his body in a way he so rarely is. His own cock is painfully hard, and he reaches down, but is distracted by Jayne pulling out of Simon's mouth. For a split second, a thin line of spit connects Jayne’s cock and Simon’s bottom lip. 

Without missing a beat, Jayne begins jerking himself off, breathing heavily. He yanks Simon’s head back by his hair, and the two stare at each other, Jayne baring his teeth, Simon, to his embarrassment, whimpering. Simon had been hoping Jayne would finish deep in his now-aching throat, but the thought of him coming on his face is almost better. Simon feels incredibly close to release himself, and his cock has hardly been touched at all. Hopefully Jayne will return this favour somewhat quickly.

Jayne lets out a groan, and Simon feels a hot wetness on his jaw. The next two spurts land on his closed lips. Cheeks burning with something he might call shame if it didn't feel so good, Simon opens his mouth and licks at Jayne’s come. He can’t help noticing the slight difference in taste from his own.

Jayne handles his softening cock slowly, lazily, continuing to stare down at Simon. Simon has the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss it. He wants Jayne to touch him, but more than that he wants to beg and plead for his touch, anything to prolong this moment on his knees, this feeling of being so impossibly small. It’s a lot to try to communicate with one’s eyes, but Simon tries, because remembering how to talk does not feel like an immediate option.

Jayne breaks eye contact first. He grunts, and slowly releases his grip on Simon’s hair. Simon feels his heart pounding. 

Jayne grins at Simon. Simon smiles back, but Jayne has already done up his pants and walked out the door of the room, leaving Simon kneeling, trousers slightly damp but still very much on his body, on the infirmary floor.

Simon wipes his sticky chin on his sleeve, swearing under his breath. He can’t decide whether the pounding in his ears is anger, or arousal. Gorrammit.


End file.
